You never really had a choice
by wellfourthings
Summary: So The Doctor stole the TARDIS and the TARDIS stole her Time Lord Doctor, and they ran away to see the whole of the Universe.


**Disclaimer: **You know, the usual. This doesn't belong to me, I don't profit from it. Never have, never will. Only the story belongs to me. Doctor Who and associated concepts belong to the BBC.

**Author's Note:** _The following is a tiny ficlet to let people know that I am, indeed, alive. It's Doctor Who-centric, and mostly musings. However, the purpose is to let anyone who might care know that I'm still writing, albeit usually on Tumblr and AO3. If you'd like to see it, message me and I'll send you a link._

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><p>She was ancient and he was just a boy, really. Yet, he needed to run, needed to get out, needed to see the universe in all of its real, pulsing, living, enormous, tempting glory. The universe was calling to him. Or at least, that was his excuse. Really, he was just running away. Running, before Koschei came back to challenge him, or call him a coward, or claim him, or see him like this, stuck here, in this endless cycle of <em>their <em>rules and _their _traditions and_their _world.

She made him feel like a child. She was a Type 40 TARDIS, long since decommissioned. Long since forgotten, really. _They _all had their new technology now. They seemed to have forgotten entirely that the TARDIS and her sisters, even their new ones, were grown, not built. Living, breathing, sentient creatures with _**souls**_.

He'd assumed that he would have to use telepathy to get one of the lovely old creatures to open their doors for him, they were usually quite stubborn. He didn't even have to have a key, as it turned out. She was unlocked. Unlocked and dimly lit, as if she were waiting for him. Waiting for a Time Lord to come and liberate her from her sentence of eternal storage.

His fingers brushed her door, and it swung open without so much as a protest. Almost as if she were inviting him in, inviting him to 'borrow' her for a bit. Strange to think that the Time Lords had living, breathing creatures that could travel in Time and Space, that had souls, and were absolutely sentient, and for the largest part of the population, female. Yet, in billions of years, none of them had ever given their TARDIS a name, nor asked the name that they called themselves? Not ever. It seemed they should be graced with the respect of being called by their names. It was, however, rather disrespectful to call someone by a name without asking first what their proper title was. He couldn't ask this TARDIS for her name, and he didn't want to anger her with one that didn't belong to her.

But… as he stepped inside her doors, and looked around the universally famous dimensionally transcendental console room, he thought that she was breathtaking, stunning, the most beautiful thing in creation. And perhaps, though he would never say it to anyone else, perhaps even a bit _**sexy**_.

How could anyone, ever, possibly forget such a brilliant being as this TARDIS? That was a crime against all the things that the Time Lords supposedly held close to their souls.

It was a slow progress, to get to know what she would allow. At first he just looked about her console room. Then, bit by bit, he followed the doors she seemed to be opening for him, into other places within her corridors.

First, the wardrobe, filled with anything and everything he could ever possibly imagine being able to wear or wanting to wear, and many things he wasn't sure if he could.

Then, the kitchen, which strangely only seemed to hold things that he regarded as his particular favourites. After that, a corridor full of lovely sleeping chambers that had all sorts of brilliant beds. Then a swimming pool, tucked away in a strange loft sort of area, seemingly made for diving. Another room, which seemed to be a stable of some sort, but that didn't make sense. Another, with an entire forest inside, presumably just in case of an oxygen shortage. Then a Zero Room, something a Time Lord must never be without, if they were away from their planet for long periods of time. An infirmary, a lounge, something that looked like a parlour, but what need would a traveling Time Lord have for a parlour? Several rather gigantic bathrooms, with lots of funny smelling bubbles and interesting art. A laboratory. An armory. The Cloister Room. Then, finally, what she seemed to be saving for last, just in case she hadn't won him over; The Library.

And oh, if she hadn't had him just by opening up her front door so he could come in, she certainly did in that moment. Floor to ceiling, level upon level upon level upon level of bookshelves, stuffed to the brim, filled with everything and anything in the history of the entirety of the universe's writings. The best weapons, the best soothers, the best entertainers in the world: Books.

He was nearly giddy with his pleasure over it, lost in the sensation of all of those words, all of that genius floating around him in this room, until he almost thought he heard something.

He had, actually, she was calling to him, tugging him back to the centre. She led him back to her console room gently. It was too brilliant, really. Too astonishing, the whole TARDIS, but especially the moment that she had let him inside the door.

He was strangely drawn to her console, the last place he should be. He really shouldn't do what he was thinking about, it was a terrible idea. He might offend her, and find himself thrown out on his overly pompous Time Lord arse, without so much as a tissue to wipe away the tears.

But Theta Sigma was horrible with 'shouldn'ts'. Equally awful with 'can't', 'don't', 'impossible', and 'forbidden'. He simply wasn't very adept at rules, or at shying away from taboos. Look at the entire ordeal with Koschei. Expressly forbidden. Extraordinarily taboo. They'd done it anyway.

So he ignored 'shouldn't' entirely, and placed one hand on the TARDIS' console. Her life seemed to beat against his hand, her soul needed to see everything and anything nearly as badly as his did. She was absolutely, stunningly, undeniably beautiful, and so he told her so.

He told her, "You really, truly, are the most beautiful thing I've ever known." He had nearly whispered it, but of course, she could hear him, and it seemed to please her.

He always intended to just borrow a TARDIS. He always intended to bring it back, someday. Really, what harm could a quick trip 'round the Universe hurt, when you could just turn up right back where you had started, five minutes after you left? No one would miss them, surely. Least of all Koschei. Perhaps it would even teach him something.

So The Doctor stole the TARDIS and the TARDIS stole her Time Lord Doctor, and they ran away to see the whole of the Universe.

All of Time and Space, everything that had ever happened, or ever would… Where should they even begin?


End file.
